Medical Magic (Drarry)

Chapter Eleven: Breakfast

            Draco opened his eyes to find himself draped over Harry's chest. He quickly shut his eyes, praying that he was still asleep and dreaming. The gently up and down of Harry's breathing made it impossible for him to pretend. Opening his eyes again, he slowly slithered off the man and out of bed. He could feel his face flushing bright red.

Draco shut the bedroom door quietly behind him and headed to the kitchen. It was one in the afternoon, but to him, it was morning. That's what happened when you worked the night shift.

He was just finishing up the omelets when Harry walked in, rubbing his eyes and yawning. When he saw the food Draco had prepared for them, he lit up. "This is amazing, Draco!"

Draco sat down at the table and gestured for Harry to do the same. "What, you have toast every morning or something?"

Harry looked up, guiltily. "Ummm..."

"Harry! That's not good for you!" Draco reprimanded.

Harry grunted.

"I'm a doctor, dammit, listen to me!"

Harry choked on his bite of omelet. When his airways were clear again, he met Draco's concerned gaze and said, "Yes sir, understood Sir Doctor."

Draco rolled his eyes but felt a grin tug on his lips. "Whatever, Scarhead."

"Whatever, Ferret."

Draco snorted in a very un-Draco-esque fashion. "I can't believe you still remember that."

Harry looked at him in confusion. "How could I not? The Amazing Bouncing Ferret is stuck in my head forever. Fred and George even made a theme song for it; it's quite catchy."

Staring at Harry in horror, Draco all but shouted, "No!" making the other man jump.

"It's funny!" Harry shrugged.

"It's not funny; it hurt like hell!"

Harry's smile faded slowly as he processed Draco's words. "I had no idea."

Draco stared at Harry. "It hurt like a bitch, being slammed into the ground when you're that small and delicate. It's a miracle I didn't die. That's why McGonagall was so pissed – I could have died."

Harry paled.

"It's not funny," Draco repeated, glancing down at his plate.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I had no idea."

Draco looked up at Harry. "Thank you."

Harry still looked shaken.

"How's my mother?" Draco asked, trying to change the subject to safer topics.

Harry grimaced. "I don't know. I only see her occasionally. She'd thinner than she ever has been before, probably from stress. She's changed her last name back to Black, and she and Andromeda have made up."

Draco smiled at that. "Good, I'm glad."

"She's really good with Teddy, too."

"Why don't you have Teddy? You are his godfather."

Harry shrugged, looking guilty. "I'm not home enough. I do a lot of traveling and late hours. I get him on weekends, and Andromeda and I have started talking about me taking him more."

"I think you'd be a good father," Draco blurted out.

Harry flushed under his tan coloring and changed the subject back to Draco's mother. "She'd sad all the time like her heart's been ripped out and not returned." Harry stared hard at Draco, who felt attacked.

"I can't go back, Harry."

"Then let me tell her you're alive."

Draco shook his head. "It's better this way. She can't get hurt if I'm not there."

Harry sighed deeply. "You're making the wrong choice, Draco."

"I'm not, Harry. I'm really not."

Harry glared at Draco, but the blond stared back impassively. "Fine. It's your life. But you're hurting those who love you."

Draco laughed bitterly. "You act like there's more than just my mother."

Harry cocked his head curiously. "What about Blaise and Pansy?"

Unable to help himself, Draco laughed loud, without humor. "What about them? We haven't been friends since the end of the war."

Harry shook his head. "They've been two of the biggest advocates for your search."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "What? They abandoned me when I went to trial."

"Perhaps, but I've spoken to both of them. They care about you and want you home as badly as your mother does."

"Bullshit."

"I swear."

Draco could find no evidence of deceit in Harry's demeanor. He frowned. "That can't be true. They hated me."

"Maybe you pushed them away when they tried to come back," Harry said quietly.

Draco didn't reply, eating the last bit of his hashbrowns. After a moment, Draco asked, "How long are you going to be here?"

"Well, either until my visa runs out in two weeks, or until you get tired of me and kick me out." He grinned cheekily at Draco as if he knew the blond would do no such thing.

Draco rolled his eyes heavenward. "You can stay here as long as you like, as long as you don't mess up my sleep schedule."

Harry nodded, looking eerily similar to a happy puppy. Draco suppressed a smile. "You do dishes since I cooked."

Standing, Harry gathered their plates without comment, going to the sink and rinsing them off. Draco took the opportunity to check out Harry's trim physique; he looked good. Really good.

"Take a picture; it will last longer," Harry chuckled, his back still turned to Draco.

He jumped. "I don't know what you're talking about." Draco sniffed, rising gracefully from the chair and moving to the couch in the living room, clicking on the TV.

Harry plopped down next to him, their thighs touching even though there was plenty of couch. "Hey! Did they just say Harry Potter?!" Harry gasped, pointing at the TV.

Draco snorted. "You're going to love this – the Americans have turned your life into a Movie Franchise. They're quite popular here."

Harry frowned. "So that's the movie rights thing I signed. I wondered why it brought in so much money. This is what I get for not having Hermione read the contract for me."

Draco stared at him with a mixture of awe at his stupidity and entertainment. "So, wanna watch them?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Let's do this. How many are there?"

"Eight."

"Damn, we better get started then." Harry waved his wand, and they were instantly covered in a shared blanket, with popcorn and snacks arranged artfully on the coffee table.

"Where'd you get those?" Draco asked, eyeing the food suspiciously.

"Closest movie theater. They won't even notice."

"Impressive. Let's do this!"